Incoherent Ramblings of a Crazy Bitch

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SNIFF SNIFF — March 26, 2015

SNIFF SNIFF

/Erica Dyer/2 Comments

In the line of work that I do there’s often a period of time that I’m without work. Sometimes it’s a short time, like a month or two, but sometimes much longer. During these periods of downtime I start thinking of all kinds of money making schemes. Because of course, God forbid, I get a “regular” job.

I was perusing the internet one day and came across and article written anonymously by a young lady who sells her used panties. Yup. Used panties. I thought to myself, “No fucking way”. She was a young college student who sold on a website set up especially for buyers and sellers of these items. In graphic detail she talked about how she made a couple of hundred a month simply putting her drawers in a Ziploc baggy and mailing them off to God knows where.

As I read about how she had request for panties worn after working out or with request for shit stains and period stains I started getting a “that’s so nasty” expression on my face. But as I continued reading about how she did it all anonymously and could make anywhere from $20-$30 bucks A PAIR my curiosity got the better of me and I looked up the website she referenced.

It wasn’t too surprising when I saw ads for college girls, or an ad showing just the underwear and stating, “Who wants to pay for me to wear these?” I started really wondering who in their right mind would use this site. Most of the ads didn’t have anyone’s faces, just butts and bodies. Although some did have their face I started noticing a pattern, they weren’t all young skinny things.

Imagine my shock when I started seeing young women, older women, skinny women, plus size women, tattooed women and professional women. It got me to thinking. Well shit, I wear underwear every day. Sometimes I even wear pantyhose! I’m not working, so maybe I could throw my shit in a Ziploc baggie and make a few bucks. Beats working for a living HAHAHA

So as you can guess I set up an ad. I crammed my fat, cellulite covered ass in a leopard print thong I had gotten for my birthday one year and posted a pic of my ass on this site. I normally don’t wear thongs; I think they are uncomfortable as hell. I had a friend once tell me I just had to get used to it. In my mind though I don’t want to get used to a wad of cloth being crammed up my butt crack. So over the years I had accumulated a drawer full of sexy shit you couldn’t pay me to wear. Or could you…

I posted my ad and did a sexy little write up about how I wore heels, stocking and thongs to work. Lies lies lies. I don’t wear that fucking shit. But you have to remember I’m thinking easy money right? Heck I even was telling my girlfriends about it one night and they were all like, “I WEAR UNDERWEAR EVERY DAY I COULD DO THAT!!!”

One day I put my little thong on and wore it all day. Honestly it was a little titillating wearing it knowing that some guy, or girl if they swing that way, were going to buy them. After taking them off at the end of the night I put them in a Ziploc baggie and put them in my drawer. Immediately I posted an ad for this pair and within 30 minutes I had at least 6 men write me asking me questions about what I had for sale and if I had more.

That’s when I started to get creeped out. I mean, sure, in their profile these looked like decent ordinary men. Young, my age, some even older. Good looking guys too! But I started wondering if their profile was fake, or if they would be able to trace me by the return post office box on the package. What would they do with my underwear????? What did my underwear even smell like??? Was it nasty??? I pulled the baggie out of my drawer and opened it a little bit so I could sniff. I didn’t think I smelled bad. It’s not like I go around smelling pussies, but it didn’t make me gag so I guessed it was fine.

After I put the baggie back in the drawer I went back to my computer and looked back at the messages. It was at that moment I realized I couldn’t do it. Yes it was anonymous and my face wasn’t on the ad. Of course I had thought of a new email and a payment site. What stopped me was though was the thought of some freak out there sniffing my underwear while he jerked off.

There more I thought about it the more I imagined that these panty sniffers could be anywhere! Our neighbors, our employers, our friends. I decided that I wasn’t meant for the fetish world after all. Of course I do still have my website access, butt pic and a drawer full of thongs so who knows. Guess I’ll have to see how long I’m unemployed this year HAHAHAHA

If You Give A Girl A… — February 3, 2015

If You Give A Girl A…

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Eddie Murphy, in the stand-up show Raw, had it right when he said, “If you give starving man a cracker it’s the best fucking cracker he’s ever had” and it was the same with sex. That statement is so true. I’m telling you after a few years of no sex this bitch gets starving. A while ago my friends introduce me to this guy who is just the exact opposite of any other guy I’ve ever dated. Dude was short, balding, a little hunchbacked, the kind of guy you probably wouldn’t look twice at. But I hadn’t dated in a while so I figure why not go out.

We got along on our double date and had a lot of fun. I had met him a few times before in a group setting so I thought fuck it, and invited him back to my place. I’m telling you I will never look at a short dude the same way again. It was awesome sex. But a relationship in heaven it was not meant to be. After only a month or two it ended. My stupid ass mooned over this guy for far longer than he was worth. But we do that kind of shit don’t we? Or it could just be me.

A couple of months after we broke up I’m out at the bar, drunk, horny and got the bright idea I was going to have someone take me to this guy’s house out in the country. I can remember my friend saying “Are you sure you want me to take you out there?” I say, “Oh ya, it’ll be fine. He leaves his door unlocked so I know I can get in.”

Now I hadn’t even talked to this guy in two months but somehow in my drunken state I just knew he would be ecstatic that I would show up and want sex. So I had my friend drop me off and I go walking into this guy’s house. It wasn’t until I reached his bedroom I thought “OH FUCK! What if he has someone in bed with him?” Did that stop me? Hell no, my ass was drunk and horny.

Walked into his bedroom and luckily he didn’t have anyone already in bed with him. But soon he would, heehee. I crawl in bed with this guy. He’s lying on his side, away from me. Right after I lay down, he reached back, touched me, like he was seeing who the hell was in bed with him and then puts his hand back in front of him. I was confused at first. I expected him to grab me and ravish me. Then it hit me, “Damn I think he’s pissed!” I just broke into this dude’s house. Maybe not “broke” in, but I’m quite sure some criminal action was there. I thought I was going to get some great make up sex and my drunken ass might end up going to jail!

I mumble maybe I had better sleep on the couch and get out of bed. I stumble to the living room and collapse on his floor. Yup, lost the ability to walk so I was laying spread eagle on this man’s living room floor.  I could see the couch; I just couldn’t force my body to get there. Then I hear him get out of bed. “Oh yea,” I’m thinking, “Here he’s coming to get me, I know he wants me.” He walks into the living room, stands still for a moment, and then proceeds to throw a blanket over me. He then goes back to bed.  “My God “, I’m thinking, “Dude just came in and threw a blanket on me. Fuck!” I lay there for a few minutes and think about what I should do. “Fuck it. I’ve already made an ass of myself and I’m horny. I’m gonna go get me some.”

Now remember I had lost the ability to walk and I had that damn blanket covering my head.  I was too fucking drunk to even think about pulling it off me. Honestly, the thought didn’t even occur to me. So off I go crawling to this man’s bedroom. I’m crawling across the floor with a blanket completely over my head, finding my way more by sense of direction than vision. BAM! I run right into his dresser. Oh ya, he knows I’m coming.

I turn toward his bed and I get to a standing position by grasping onto the bedding and slowly pulling myself up. I figure I know what to do. What guy can resist a half naked woman? So I take off my pants, I take off my bra, and I crawl in bed behind this guy. The man doesn’t touch me. I’m too drunk to feel rejected so my ass decides to pass out. About two hours later this guy shakes me awake and says he’s going to take me home because he has things to do the next day. As he’s driving I couldn’t even lift my head to look at him. Longest, most silent ride ever. I still remember the song playing on the radio, Apple Bottom Jeans.

As we pulled up to my place I mumbled thanks and jumped out of his truck. He was pulling away before I even get a chance to shut the door. I’m surprised he even stopped. Hell he could have just slowed down and told me to jump. I was drunk enough I would have probably done it. That was one of the most humiliating nights of my life. I didn’t get my drunken ass laid, but at least I didn’t get arrested. And I bet you he’s locking his doors now! HAHAHAHAHAHA

Where’s The Hand Sanitizer? — January 21, 2015

Where’s The Hand Sanitizer?

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I was washing my hands in the bathroom at a local community college one day. Standing at the sink next to me was this other student. She’s was tall, pretty, young, looked like an average college student. She was washing her hands too. Well she proceeds to blow her nose into her left hand!!! Not into a tissue, not a paper towel but into her left hand. Then she rinses her hand off, lifts up her head and looks up her nose. She must have seen something because she blew her nose into her hand again. Then she looks over at me. I just finished washing my hands and got the hell out of there.

 I’m telling you women in public bathrooms are gross. There was another time at college that I went in, sat down (I always line the seat with toilet paper) and look over to my right and there is blood all over the bathroom stall wall. Not a couple drops either, huge smears of blood! Now how in the hell do you get blood on the wall? Was a woman like whipping her ass back and forth or what? Or was she trying to see if her tampon would stick? I mean really, blood? I still don’t understand that.

Just recently at work there was blood on the floor of the bathroom stall I had unfortunately chosen. It wasn’t even in front of the toilet, like the chick pulled her pants down and didn’t realize she had started. It was over to the side a bit, like she stood there looking down wondering what the fuck she was going to do. Of course she could have just been trying to create an inkblot test for those who ventured into the stall after her.

But here’s another one. How in the hell do people get shit on the back of the toilet seat? The back!? My asshole is not that far back. Are they like sitting on the clear back of the toilet seat? For what!? And do they not see the shit when they get up? Do they wipe and run? I’m sorry but I will turn around and make sure the toilet flushes. not that I want to see my own shit but I sure as hell don’t want anyone else seeing it either.

When I worked at a very large annuity company the women there were nasty also. Shit all over the seat. Or on the wall! The fucking WALL!!!! Like they wiped and got shit on their hand so they wiped it on the wall!!!! These were adult women! And they worked for a HUGE company! Things like this would always happen though.

Another thing that irritates me, I could be the only one in the bathroom with ten stalls, all open but mine. But it never fails that a woman has to come in and take the stall next to me and start taking a shit. I personally would go to the farthest away, but no, not the women I run into. Maybe they think they need a friend? There was this one time that this woman would flush every time she grunted. Like I didn’t know what the hell she was doing. Flushing every five seconds was more annoying than listening to her.

Now don’t get me wrong. There have been times that I just couldn’t help myself and had to go in a public bathroom. I was at Walmart one time and it hit me. I go in and there’s no one in there, great! Well I’m sitting there and a worker comes in and starts cleaning so I’m sitting there waiting. Well she’s sweeping the stalls to my left. Then she skips my stall and goes to the stalls on my right. Then (I’m not kidding you) she sticks her broom under my stall door, between my legs and sweeps my stall while I’m sitting there shitting. Had I not been so shocked I would have asked what the hell she was doing and couldn’t she wait two minutes? But I was stunned. So she finished cleaning and left. I wiped my ass and slunk out of the bathroom hoping to god she didn’t remember what my shoes looked like.

All I’m really saying is save the sick shit for your own personal bathroom at home. I really don’t need to be afraid of getting hepatitis in the bathroom or touching a door knob after seeing someone use their hand as a Kleenex. I wasn’t even raised by my mother and I STILL have more common sense than some of these women. Which that thought actually makes me wonder, are

Ink Blot Test!
Ink Blot Test!

men’s restrooms just as bad?

 

THE DYER PARTY — January 17, 2015

THE DYER PARTY

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The summer after graduation I had a huge party out at my dad’s place in the country. I swear half of the town was there. During our partying and drinking there comes a knock on the door. I answer it and there’s this guy I’ve never seen before standing there. He asked me if I was having a party. He was kind of cute so I say “Yea, why don’t you come on in and have a beer?” Cutie replies, “Okay, give me minute though I have to call my friends.”

All of a sudden we have at least 10 cop cars swarming all over the yard! NO JOKE. We had city, county, excise, not to mention the fucking plain clothed detective who I invited in for a beer. They were chasing people through the fields, found them hiding in the barn, crossing the creek, it was a mad house.

Those of us that were caught got herded inside were we started taking breathalyzers. My one friend, who was drunk as a skunk, ran into the bedroom where another friend had their 5 year old sleeping. She jumped in bed with the kid just as a cop opened the door. She pretended he had woke her up and asked what was going on she was just watching the kid.  The cop said okay and let her go! Another friend lied about his damn name and got caught in the lie so he was taken to jail. One friend gave his cousin’s name (who was also at the party) the cop asked what my friend had blown on the breathalyzer test and he gave his cousin’s number. His ass got away scott free.

My favorite guy of the night was a kid who asked if he could go pee so the cops let him (this was before they even got his name or had him blow). He goes into the bathroom. About a half hour later the cops realize he never came back. The bathroom door was locked so the go around back. The kid had locked the door, crawled out the window and had gotten away HAHAHAHAHA.

The cops made me dump out the alcohol, including a bottle of wine my dad had. Of course I asked the officers if they would like a drink before it went down the drain. Give me a break, I was feeling pretty damn good. Cops couldn’t kill my buzz. The kids under 18 were made to call their parents to come get them. Those over 18 were “arrested” and not too drunk to drive were able to leave but had a court date to go to. I don’t think our small county Jail could hold all of us. After they left there were a whole bunch of us still sitting there. We had found some liquor hidden behind the couch and figured fuck it the cops weren’t coming back. So we drank that shit. HAHAHAH

That next week it was all over the front page of the paper “THE DYER PARTY”. Damn I must have made my dad proud. When we went to court we were given probation, counter measures, all that fun stuff, and told if we didn’t get into trouble in the next year it would be dropped from our records. So when our sentences were given once again in the paper “THE DYER PARTY”. Only about half of our group made in the next year without trouble. It took me two tried to make it through counter measures. The first time I kept falling asleep, I had been up partying all night the night before and Judge Heimann was just so damn boring. I actually got kicked out of counter measures for sleeping. The second time I had to keep punching and pinching my leg to stay awake.

When a year had passed we marched back to the court house for the follow up with the judge. We noticed there was a deputy in the back of the room. I was joking with everyone “Gee I wonder who he’s here for HAHA”. Ya guess what, the joke was on me. Before the proceedings even really began the prosecutor filed some additional (and unrelated) charges against me and my butt was hauled from the court house off to county. Why you ask? Well that’s a story for another day HAHAHAH Ah to be young again.

I can laugh about it now because it was minor stuff over 20 years ago and has never kept me from a job I wanted. But I’m telling you, that must have been one hell of a party. There’s still times (just last year) I’ll run into people and they’ll mention they were busted at my party and for the life of me I don’t know who the hell they are!

I’m A 10 Just Like Bo Derek! — January 11, 2015

I’m A 10 Just Like Bo Derek!

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Back during senior year of high school we had a senior picnic at Pine Lake. I didn’t have a swimsuit so my friend Steve and I went shopping for one. Took us awhile to find one that I thought would work. We found this really cute white one piece. It had a halter top with a design where it plunged down so it would accentuate what little chest I had.

We were at the picnic swimming and having fun. I had been in the water and decided to get out. I’m stepping up out of the water, flipping my hair, rocking my bod, strutting like Bo Derek in 10. Thinking I look hot as Hell as I sashayed and waved at people. I was going to make those senior guys eat their hearts out for not paying me any attention all through school. All of a sudden Steve, who was up on the beach sitting on our towels, starts laughing hysterically. It seems you could see right through my wet swimsuit. And I do mean right through it. My hair was dark as Hell and back in the day I was sporting quite a bush. Hey it was the early 90’s before a thing called Brazilian waxing.

There I am knee deep in water, in front of the entire senior class showing my bush, oh and let’s not forget my big ass brown nipples because those suckers were showing right through too. I’ve had more than one man tell me my areolas are the size of pepperonis. So when I say bush and nipples showing I’m not kidding. I had to run through the water the rest of the way. Felt like slow motion as I tried to have one arm across my chest and the other covering my crotch. Splashing through this damn water all the way up the beach to my clothes. All while the entire fucking class was laughing and laughing.

Now you would think that after that humiliation I would have stayed away from my classmates after we graduated. Ya, well, that’s not my style. After we graduated there was a party at a classmate’s house in the country. They had a pond and of course we were drinking so we weren’t thinking normal. One of my friends, her boyfriend and I decided to go skinny dipping in this pond. So yes, once again, the class saw my goodies. Only this time there wasn’t a think piece of see through white covering me. Of course in my defense that was over 20 years, 2 kids and 50 pounds ago so my goodies weren’t half bad. HAHAHA

I’m Too Old For This Shit — January 6, 2015

I’m Too Old For This Shit

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Went to Snickerz Comedy Club Comedy Club and to dinner quite a while back with my friends Angie and Kris. At dinner my friend Angie ordered this big ass margarita. I mean this sucker was 48oz, never seen one that big. I had only ordered a 12oz. So much smaller than what she got, story of my life I guess. Well I drank mine then proceeded to fill my glass from Angie’s. Then drank Kris’ drink also. Then, filled my glass again from Angie’s. Although I should have stopped at that point Angie had some left so I just drank it. Damn I was getting drunk.

We then went to Snickerz Comedy Club. Talked to the manager about my doing open mic nite again. Not only did he remember me but a couple of other guys there remembered me too. Of course my response to that is it’s kind of hard to forget me up on stage talking about bad sex ha-ha. At Snickerz I had a big rum runner while there then half another one. Before I even finished the second I realized, damn I’m drunk. So I quit drinking. Anyway after Snickerz a few of us went to Piere’s, the part that was CLUB V at the time. I guess you could call it the hip hop side. Well in my drunkenness I decided I was going to dance in the cage like I did back in the day.

I’m up there dancing and shaking my hips like i was 22 again. I’m really getting into it, shake, shake shake. I know I have to look hot as Hell, whipping my head back and forth and moving my hips. Of course in reality I probably looked like some old ass freak, dressed like a hooker and flopping around like I was having a seizure. But damn 30 seconds of that and I was worn out. My friends go on the dance floor so I slithered out of the cage like I was a damn stripper. As soon as my feet hit the floor vomit comes up in my mouth. I didn’t puke, but it reached past my throat. I mean I could feel chunks on my tongue. (If that grossed you out imagine how I felt). Not wanting to look like a fool in this busy busy club, I swallow the shit back down and decide my dancing is over for the night.

There I was just standing to the side looking like a dork, trying not to puke. While I’m standing there one of our friends decides to leave so I have now taken the position of cock blocking body guard and walk her out because by this point I was becoming the sober one. We stop and talk to a cop on the way who is sitting in his car learning how to play guitar. I’m not kidding. The neck of the guitar is out his window and he had his music sheet out. He said he was off duty and working for the bar. After chatting up rodeo cop I take my friend to her car and return to the bar.

I went back inside to be big momma cock blocking body guard to the other two dancing fools. As I’m standing there I realized, man I really needed to fart. Well I’m drunk; sick as Hell to my stomach from dancing, so I figured fuck it. And I then became the farting cock blocking body guard. I recommend you don’t eat Mexican before a night of dancing at the clubs. Every time I walked, Hell moved, I had the flapping of my cheeks and the prayers to God I wasn’t going to shart myself. I can’t even tell you if it smelled. I’d fart, move, fart, move, fart, and move. Maybe I was simply marking my territory?

This experience brought back a memory from years prior.  Another time I went to Piere’s with my friend Angie and we were in this huge crowd. I had to fart so bad I could help it. Talk about silent but deadly. It was as if a cloud of rotten eggs and shit was hovering around us. It was so bad it grossed me out, let alone everyone around me. Angie crunched her face up in disgust and said “Man somebody just shit themselves let’s get outa here!” So we left. I never did tell her it was me. Of course if she reads this she’ll know my secret hee hee.

At the end of the night I had to lead those two drunken asses out. We tried to go out the wrong door and the bouncers had it closed. The one did tell me I was hot. Yea that’s me, the hot, farting, puking, dancing fool. Fun times. But man I’m getting old. Back in the day I could drink all night, party till the bar closed then go out for breakfast. After sleeping a few hours I could be out again. Now if I do make it out past midnight it’s a special occasion and once in a while I’ll say fuck it and just wear my robe when I go HAHAHA

You’re Jealous Cuz I’m Hot! — December 30, 2014

You’re Jealous Cuz I’m Hot!

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There was this one guy I dated who always felt the need to point out every woman he wanted to fuck, tried to fuck, or had fucked. I couldn’t hang out with him and his friends because I knew in detail how many of his friend’s girlfriends or wives he would like to fuck. Hell even my friends. He went down a list saying who he’d fuck and who’d he just let give him a blow job. Trust me I wasn’t asking.

I remember one night we went to Fort Wayne for dinner and as we were leaving the hostess said goodbye and smiled. So this guy turns to me and says “She has a nice smile. Her mouth would look really good around my cock.” What an asshole! Then there was another time. We were at Decatur Gardens one morning. And this guy pointed out one of the waitresses and says “I know her. I didn’t fuck her but she sucked my dick one night.” This chick then comes over to take our order. So there I am wondering when the Hell my boyfriends cock was in this chick’s mouth as I’m trying to order, “Um ya, I’d like a pecan waffle, bacon….”

I couldn’t even watch TV with this guy because he’d point out all those chicks he’d like to fuck too. I’m sure you’re asking, “Well why didn’t you just say something?” I DID! I told him how disrespectful it was, rude, and just plain made him an ass. His response? “YOU’RE JEALOUS! You’re just jealous cuz I’m so hot!” Well he must have had a funhouse mirror in his damn bathroom because dude was so not hot. Wasn’t ugly, but definitely not what makes panties wet.

Needless to say that relationship didn’t last very long. I can’t stand a needy man and jealousy just isn’t my thing. Well, not any more. I guess getting locked up DOES detour crime. HAHAHAHA

Wink Wink — December 28, 2014

Wink Wink

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In the online dating world the very first thing that catches anyone’s attention is your profile picture. I’ve talked to some people who say the pictures of those they went out with were NOTHING like how they looked in person. The pictures were from high school or pictures of when they weighed 200 pounds less. Hell even pictures straight up of other people. Well let me tell you about a few profiles I have seen.

There was one where the picture was a guy’s kids. Now I’m sure he loves his children, but seriously and I suppose to say “Oh what cute kids we should go out?” How about the guys who show pictures of vehicles or motorcycles? “Wow a Harley, that must mean he’s a really nice guy!” And the one with big houses make me want to write back and say, “Did you take a picture of your neighbor’s house or what?” The guys who are flexing their muscles in the mirror make me want to laugh out loud. Actually I shouldn’t say they make me want to, they do HAHAHA And the guys sitting there shirtless, slouched, not smiling, wow, how hot. Some of them look like damn serial killers. One especially creepy guy must have been laying in bed. It didn’t show his face. It showed his stomach with a remote control on it, the full length of his legs and the TV at the end of his bed. I couldn’t figure out what the Hell he was trying to accomplish with that picture.

Of course there are always the guys who don’t know how to cut a damn ex out of a picture. Come on man, like I want to see you with your arms around a good looking woman, smiling like a fool. Cut and paste baby cut and paste. My all-time favorite though was a guy who was sitting there all huggie kissie with this woman. Dude didn’t cut and paste. He had blacked out the woman’s eyes, and gave her a moustache and goatee. What the Hell is I supposed to say to that? “Oh how clever, haha, lets go out.” I personally thought that screamed PSYCHO. Shit he’d probably chop me up and put me in his freezer. After taking a picture first of course haha

If you actually make it past the profile picture and read the profile that’s where it starts getting really interesting. Some guys go on and on about how they’ve been hurt and cheated on. Again, that will hardly make me want you. You don’t put that shit in your profile!!!! Save that for the 3rd or 4th date. Some guys will just put it out there that they are just looking for a good time and nothing serious. Do they really have to go online for that; can’t they just go to the local bar?  This one profile I saw was so huge I couldn’t even read the damn thing, it was soooo boring. It went into great detail about his job, life, family, etc. Save that shit for the date. The best one I had to see was this divorced guy who wrote “After twenty years of marriage my friends would come to me and ask me what the meaning of a good marriage is because I know. It is …” Come on dude, YOU’RE DIVORCED. You don’t know the meaning of shit!!!! You’ve had an experience, you’ve learned from it. That doesn’t mean you know the meaning of a good marriage!

Well if you make it past the profile picture and into the profile, next comes how you contact the person you’re interested in. I get these stupid ones, sometimes they are just smiley faces, or “winks”. Okay, did you have something to say? Am I supposed to respond? Or I’ll get “hey want to chat?” “What’s up” “you’re cute”. Again, what do I respond? I personally think if a man is interested in getting to know me he could at least write a damn paragraph and maybe ask me some questions so I will feel like responding. I often get those men who tell me I’m hot or sexy. My profile pic is just my face, that’s it. I could be 500 pounds! How would I even respond? “Gee thanks stranger for telling me I’m so sexy and I get your dick hard. Let’s meet.” It finally got to the point I put right into my profile to not comment on my looks and to bother to read my profile before writing. Oh they loved that. At that point I got the shitty ones. “You’re negative” “You must be a bitch” “How can you be so pessimistic” “You’re ugly anyway” and on and on.

I got in a bad habit though. ANY guy that would write me I felt like I HAD to write back or I might hurt their feelings. So I’d just say chit chat stuff. Before I know if I’m in email Hell with some fugly fat dude trying to explain why I’m not interested. Or with my past, I’d actually go on a date or probably end up in a relationship HAHA At this point I’ve just removed my profile from all dating sights and am going to the old fashioned way. So in my case, I won’t.

Spare Some Change? — December 26, 2014

Spare Some Change?

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Back in my younger years I used to party pretty darn hard (I know I know go figure HAHA). One weekend my dad was away and a friend and I broke out his hard liquor. We were in high school so of course we thought we could drink and drink and still party all night. After I alone drank a fifth of Crown Royal and a fifth of Amaretto my friend and I decided we were going to go to a party that was in Geneva. Well we didn’t have any gas money. But I knew my dad had this big change jar in his room so I drug it into the living room to count some out.

I’m sitting on the hardwood floor in the living room, counting away. All of sudden BLUGH BLUGH BLUGH I puked right in the change. And to make it even worse I then collapsed face first into the change and puke. So there I am laying face down in my own vomit, pennies going up my nose, puke in my eyes. My friend starts laughing her ass off! Do you think the bitch would help me? Oh Hell no. She went into town and brought back her boyfriend and some other mutual “friends”. I remember lying there, not able to move, listening to these assholes laughing away at me. Then they left! Right after that I passed out right where I lay.

The next morning I wake up and had to peel myself off the floor. Dried puke and change was stuck to my face and in my hair. After catching my balance I stumble to the bathroom. I was shocked at what I saw in the mirror. My God I was a mess. I think I even had puke in my ears. Thankfully this was back in the day before everyone had a cell phone and pictures were everywhere on facebook. After cleaning myself up I turned my attention to the change. All fucking day I washed that damn change. Had to soak it and wash just about each coin separate just to make sure there wasn’t puke on it. I guess I could have tossed it but I wasn’t about to throw away thirty bucks! This was back when we could get gas for 75 cents a gallon.

I was clean, the change was cleaned. Then I turned my attention to the mess on the floor, thankfully it was hardwood so it wasn’t too bad. Besides most of the vomit was on me and the change. God what a night. Wonder if my dad ever figured out what happened to his alcohol HAHAHAHAHA

I Should Stab You With A Fucking Fork — December 25, 2014

I Should Stab You With A Fucking Fork

/Erica Dyer/Leave a comment

I’m really not a Christmas person. Kind of detest it if you ask. This year I didn’t even put a tree up. Now I know what most of you are thinking, how in the world can anyone hate Christmas? Well Christmas has never been a fun filled holiday for me. It brings back nightmares of my grandma giving me training bras. HAHA. Actually looking back, I wish my Christmas’s were filled with training bras. It would be better than the shit I get now.

I had been dating this guy for quite awhile, long enough to think maybe I’d get some bling bling for Christmas, maybe lingerie, expensive perfume, something nice. At least take my kids out to pick out a gift for me. Well Christmas morning comes and my kids are opening their gifts, I give this guy his presents. I always go overboard with not only my kids, but anyone I’m dating. So I had bought this guy about 10 things, really fucking nice ones spent about $500 on him. With each gift he got as excited as a kid. Then it’s my turn.

He sits down beside me and hands me this package. One present. But I’m not greedy; it’s the thought that counts right? Well it was too big for jewelry and too heavy for lingerie. I like all sorts of things so I’m shaking it, trying to guess. What could it be? I slowly unwrap it, getting excited while I do. And open a package of fucking silverware. NO I’m not joking. This mother fucker gave me silverware for our first Christmas together. I sat there just stunned. I was so hurt and so pissed I can’t even describe it. So I ask “Why the fuck would you give me silverware?” His response “Well I can never find a fork when I’m here.” So I tell him “If you want to give someone fucking silverware you hand it to them any old day of the week and say “here baby I was thinking of you” you don’t wrap it as a Christmas gift! Especially your first Christmas together!”

So to break it down in a clearer perspective, he got very thoughtful gifts and I was given a package of twenty dollar silverware. This man made almost $20 an hour, no kids, no ex-wife, no house so he had money and he couldn’t even throw in pans with the Goddamn silverware. I should have stabbed him in the damn eye with a fork. No wonder why I hate dating. Men are fucking morons